


You Could Be

by hecateandhoney (LiveLoveLikeMe)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 13:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20976914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLoveLikeMe/pseuds/hecateandhoney
Summary: Dimity stopped laughing and her eyes widened with something akin to unbridled glee.  “This is even better than I thought.”“In what way?” Hecate asked, suddenly feeling nervous.  Then, remembering Dimity’s earlier words, “What did you mean by couple’s costume?”Hackle, F/F, Halloween fluff





	You Could Be

**Author's Note:**

> A little Halloween fluff for my lovely Carol-Ann. Thank you for the adorable little Maureen art on my twitter. She's perfect!

“Hecate?”

“Hmm?” Hecate looked up from the papers she’d been grading in Ada’s study, content with the comfortable silence between them. Ethel Hallow had turned in a particularly diligent paper on the properties of using henbane under a full moon, and she was just getting to the good part that left her with the lingering sense that at least _one_ student was absorbing the material. Anyone else interrupting at this juncture would have been handed their head on a platter, but she never could deny Ada and instead tried to hide her automatic grimace.

“Sorry if I’ve interrupted you,” Ada said sheepishly. 

Hecate was about to tell her it was fine—even if technically it was not—but had no such opportunity as Ada, ever excited by her ideas, ploughed on.

“I’ve been thinking about Halloween this year.”

“All Hallow’s Eve,” Hecate corrected.

Ada sent her a placating smile and patted her on the shoulder from her seat at the other end of the cramped little sofa. “Yes, well about that—“

“You have tired of disastrous trick-playing pumpkins and finally come around to my request that we return to the solemn, ceremonial fires.” Hecate nodded, feeling for _this_, it was a worthy interruption. “A wise decision. I believe the girls could truly benefit from a night of quiet reflection.”

“While I’m certain there’s something to that idea, and I have every intention of one day giving it some consideration…”

Hecate’s face fell.

“… I was actually thinking that this year, the girls could use some cheering up.” Ada looked so gung-ho, so utterly cheerful, Hecate knew nothing that followed could possibly be good.

“In what way?” she asked, no longer holding back her grimace.

Ada clasped her hands together with a delighted little bounce, clearly thrilled at the invitation to go on. Much as Hecate dreaded what was to come, she also couldn’t deny that part of her, however deeply buried, was absolutely tickled to see Ada so excited.

“Well, since you asked,” Ada began, making it sound as though Hecate had practically pried the information out of her, “you might be aware of the human tradition where children dress up in costumes.”

Hecate blinked and sighed most solemnly. “Ada, I may be resigned to forced giddiness each year, but this is simply too far. I cannot stand by and watch as the girls run about in cost_umes_ making a mockery of the craft.

“I thought that might be your reaction,” Ada began, holding up a hand to silence any of Hecate’s further, very valid protestations. She frowned but remained quiet, letting Ada go on. “Which is why I settled on a compromise I thought you might appreciate.”

Hecate looked on with a frown for a moment, but there was no denying the excited hope painted across Ada’s face. She knew, even before hearing the plan, that there was little chance she’d stop it from happening.

“Go on,” Hecate said begrudgingly.

“I was thinking that the girls might be allowed to wear costumes of their own making to the Halloween dance, however, the costumes would be limited to historical figures in witching kind.”

Hecate sniffed, thinking it over. “And there is to be an additional essay assignment to prove they are actually learning rather than simply donning a hat and a pointy nose?” 

Ada’s face fell slightly, but she powered on. “As long as you’re volunteering to do the grading…”

It was far from the worst compromise Ada had ever attempted to facilitate. In fact, if she pushed aside her dread at having the girls run about in a pure mockery of the solemn night, she could at least appreciate the educational value at hand. She begrudgingly had to admit, they often did work harder when fun was the reward. And while it was a policy she simply loathed following in her own classroom—after all, potions are a serious deed and should never, at any time, be put at risk with such frivolities as _fun_—Hecate had to admit that the temptation to utilize it to sneak an extra lesson into the term was all too high.

And if it added to Ada’s seasonal glee, well, Hecate couldn’t be blamed for taking enjoyment out of that too.

“Very well,” she said with one succinct nod. “We shall allow the costumes on the condition that the girls take their assignments seriously. Any who do not shall join me in silent reflection as they clean out my cauldrons instead.”

“Oh, Hecate, I think you’ll see this is one of our best ideas yet!”

Hecate couldn’t help the small smile that bubbled to her lips at Ada’s excitement. “Please, Ada. The credit for this _idea_ belongs purely to you.”

All in all, the costume scheme hadn’t gone too terribly leading up to All Hallow’s Eve. The papers were all turned in and accounted for, some disappointingly frivolous write-ups on pop-stars that Hecate was forced to begrudgingly accept had, though poorly, contributed to witching history. A few she was almost proud to read, including Clarice’s write-up on the first witch to create a dragon pox cure, and those made the idea feel almost worthwhile. She had tried to put Mildred Hubble in detention for the utterly humiliating topic of her own paper, but Ada intervened to save the girl.

Hecate suspected Ada was endeared to Mildred’s pleas that in the future, Hecate would be remembered with great renown for all her accomplishments in the potions field, so she was only writing the paper a bit early. Hecate, though secretly hoping the girl might be right, did not take kindly to being considered an appropriate _history_ assignment, and compromised by giving the girl a C and a quick smile no one else would believe ever happened.

Having depended upon at least a few students failing to take the project seriously, Hecate faced her empty potions lab with a frown. The party was set to begin shortly, and without any detentions to oversee, she suspected she would be expected to chaperone. 

A knock at the door startled Hecate from her thoughts, and she waved it open without bothering to see who it might be, hopeful that perhaps a last minute troublemaker had been sent her way for a full night of silent working. 

Her disappointment at the sight of an adult was short-lived when Ada stepped through, beaming with a smile.

“Oh, Hecate, I’m so glad I caught you before you changed,” Ada began cheerfully.

Hecate frowned, looking down at her ceremonial robes. “I have already done so.”

Ada winced, pulling an alarming dress bag out from behind her back. “I believe Mildred Hubble already has the Hecate Hardbroom costume covered for the night,” she teased. “And from the preview I’ve seen, it’s quite impressive. She’s upgraded her timepiece from the last time,” Ada added with a chuckle. 

Hecate sniffed, unamused. “Be that as it may, I fail to see what that has to do with my own state of dress.”

Ada held out the bag with a giddy wiggle. “We can’t have two of you prowling around in the same dress, so I brought you a costume. I assume I was right in guessing you haven’t prepared one yourself?”

“I did not,” Hecate said through pursed lips. “Nor do I recall that particular detail of our agreement.”

“Oh, come now, Hecate,” Ada tutted, “I’ve selected someone very respectable for you. Don’t you at least want to see who it is?”

Much as she wanted the utter torment to end, she wanted much more to see Ada’s excitement play out. Begrudgingly, Hecate locked the door with a twist of her wrist, held out her arms, and nodded her permission for Ada to dress her.

Ada’s magic was warm, tingling like kisses trailing across her skin as it worked diligently to make the clothing drape just right. She longed for it to stay when it finished, though tiny tendrils still remained behind, dancing around for an escape through the sleeves. Hecate turned to hide her blush and summoned a mirror from her quarters to lean against the wall.

She gasped at the sight. The early 14th century robes, the tell-tale pointy hat fashioned off the traditional men’s design—it was all so obvious, and she nearly teared up at the thoughtfulness of the selection.

“Anapha Lister,” she said tightly. “How did you know?” she turned her teary eyes on Ada, feeling such a strong connection to her reflection in the mirror, she needed to look away.

“An expert potioneer despite being denied entrance to all the top wizarding institutions, owner of the very first witch-only publication in potions advancement, and a strict traditionalist to boot. It’s never been a great mystery who you might idolize, dear,” Ada pointed out with a gentle smile. 

Hecate swallowed thickly, chancing another look at herself in the mirror. Ada was right—if ever she had idolized someone in her life, it was Anapha Lister. There was another thing about her that Hecate had found so endearing, of course, though Ada couldn’t possibly have guessed that. She looked over nervously. “You do not think the costume might draw… speculation?”

“How so?”

She cleared her throat, wishing she hadn’t asked. “Because Anapha Lister was also… you must be aware she was…”

“The first witch to marry another witch?” Ada guessed.

Hecate flinched and nodded, chancing a glance at Ada to see if she seemed to find the revelation off-putting. Instead she found the older woman to be crestfallen.

“Of course, if that’s a problem for you, Hecate, I won’t be offended if you wear something else.” Though Hecate very much suspected she would be rather hurt.

“It is of no issue, Ada,” Hecate rushed to say. “As long as you are certain it will not cause any disruptions?”

“Hecate,” Ada began gently, coming around to her side and turning her back to the mirror to fully see herself again. She had to admit, a little thrill ran through her stomach each time she saw herself. “While the choice is entirely yours to make, we aren’t in the 14th century any longer.” Without a further word, Ada patted her reassuringly on the arm, stepped back with one final appraising look, and transferred away leaving Hecate to work the knot out of her gut.

Despite all her best instincts screaming to change back to her ceremonial robes, twinning with Mildred Hubble be damned, Hecate left the costume on. Much as she wanted to make Ada happy and see that satisfied look return to her eyes, she had to admit, she was doing it just as much for herself. There was something freeing about being just a little more herself for one night, even if it had to be done through the shoes of another.

And if that speculation came as it was prone to from sugared up girls grasping for gossip? Well, Hecate had plenty of spaces free in detention the following week.

For the most part, the start to her night went smoothly. Those who recognized her costume were heavy in their compliments, and those who didn’t were trapped in an impromptu potions lesson that Hecate couldn’t deny enjoying. Mildred’s caricature of her wasn’t entirely offensive, and she even preened a bit with pride as she watched her student pull off a flawless transference entrance.

“Well done, HB!” Dimity said with an inappropriate whistle, saddling up to her side. “You not only got in a costume, but a couple’s costume to boot. Call me a broom and tell me to fly—I’m impressed.”

Hecate sniffed and frowned down at her pest of a friend. “I beg your pardon? Miss Cackle handed me a costume and told me it was required dressage for the evening,” she half-lied.

“Sure,” Dimity snorted. “And I suppose you haven’t seen what she’s wearing yet, too?”

Hecate’s frown deepened. “I have not,” she admitted.

Sensing the honesty in her tone, Dimity stopped laughing and her eyes widened with something akin to unbridled glee. “This is even better than I thought.”

“In what way?” Hecate asked, suddenly feeling nervous. Then, remembering Dimity’s earlier words, “What did you mean by couple’s costume?”

Dimity gestured across the room to where Ada stood, dressed head to toe in a frilly pink robe and sparkly witch hat. It was by far the gaudiest thing Hecate had ever seen, even with Ada’s beauty hiding inside, but what was more alarming was the fact that she recognized who it represented almost immediately.

“Ada is…”

“Dressed as Annabeth Walkerleaf?”

“Yes. Naturally, as she was the first headmistress of a witching academy—”

“And your wife,” Dimity added cheekily.

“—Ada would find her a compelling figure.” Hecate finished, pretending to ignore Dimity’s outburst. She was less successful at keeping her cheeks from turning red, and Dimity quickly caught on.

“There’s no shame in couple’s costumes, HB. And you two couldn’t have picked a better couple to go as.”

Hecate had no doubt she meant the words with the deepest sincerity, but glared regardless. “We cannot be wearing a couple’s costume, as you insist on calling it, because we are _not_ a couple. Ada would never…” Hecate trailed off, too close to revealing too much.

“Holy bats, you’re dense sometimes. She literally dressed you as one of the most famous couples in witching history, and then you _actually_ showed up wearing it. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for that woman and she for you in return. If you’re not a couple, I’ll eat my hat.”

Hecate heated up, shocked by the words. She couldn’t be right… could she? Ada wouldn’t seriously have feelings for her. She probably had made a mistake. That’s all it was. She wouldn’t… “Then I suggest you get to work, it might take you a while to finish chewing, even with such a large—“

“Having some taffy, are we?” Ada asked, shocking Hecate into silence as she joined them, looking like a kid in a candy shop. “It is especially difficult to chew this year, isn’t it?” She tutted, then turned to Hecate with a beaming smile. “I see you’re still in your costume. Excellent! I was hoping we could match,” she admitted with a blush, “but I wanted it to be a fun surprise.”

Hecate looked over at Dimity for help, but she was met with a smug grin. “I leave you with this. Maybe you’re not, but you could be.” And with that she skipped away, no doubt in search of the taffy.

Hecate floundered while Ada watched after her in confusion. “You could be what?” she asked.

Hecate blushed, thought about retorting with something snarky, but shook her head. In this one, single instance, Dimity might actually be a little bit right. 

“Could be a better dancer if I applied myself to learning,” she lied, looking boldly over at Ada. “With the right teacher, of course.”

“Well, you’ve made this a night of learning for the students. Care to take a turn yourself?” Ada held out a hand, smiling up in her matching costume. “I hear Anapha Lister was an excellent dancer.”

“Then in the interest of learning, I suppose we must.”


End file.
